The love I knew was a broken feeling. Ruined fraction of a human being. Shattered into words of self-deprecating and midnight thinking. The love I met was in a dream. The worst kind of wishful dreaming. With eyes closed and a full running mind, consisted of people whose existence is around but have been far way long gone. I met love only when I let myself to be taken over into the unconscious world. Romanticized by a dead logic and a handful of feelings that is kinda sick. The love I knew was pain. One-sided, unrequited, red blooded. The kind of pain that makes you want to scream with a tied tongue; the kind of pain when a wingless bird learn to fly. The love I knew was never wants more. Expecting miracle but swallowing every reality only to be awaken to the utter veracity, that love is not always pretty. It’s a monster ready to devour my entire endeavor. The love I knew was being on the other line waiting for him to pick up. Consumed wit...
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